Dear Michael

Dear Michael,

It's been 2 days since you left us... And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and how you touched my life. I can't really explain why I'm this sad over somebody that I didn't even know personally, even though we met once...

It was over 10 years ago, but I'll never forget it. I was shopping in Amsterdam and while I was walking towards the Virgin Record Store at the Magna Plaza mall I saw a limo parked outside. I didn't pay too much attention to it, and just went inside to get whatever I was looking for.
I was so shocked when I saw you standing only one isle away from me, checking out Laurel & Hardy videotapes. There weren't that many people around you at all, so I got really close to you. I don't think I even realized back then that I was within a few feet of the most famous person in the whole world. The King of Pop. A true Legend. Not to mention a wonderful, kind and inspirational man.
One of your bodyguards gestured me to move back a little. I'll never forget what he said: "Michael likes his space." I smiled and told him that I did too, but moved away anyway.
And that's when you looked up and smiled at me. A smile that I will never forget.

Losing you felt like losing a big part of my youth. Your songs are the background music to all of my best memories... And it kind of feels like a bulk of wonderful memories got ripped out of my heart when you passed. It hurts like hell.

My brother was also a big fan of yours, and he would play your songs over and over and over again. I remember dancing and singing to the Off The Wall record together, even though I was too small to really know what I was singing about, and probably got all the words wrong since I didn't speak any English yet. My brother would have the white socks and the black shoes and one glove, and he knew ALL your moves. I was so impressed...
He (his name is also Michael by the way) moved to Australia 6 years ago and I miss him terribly. Hearing your songs again and thinking about these days, makes me miss the happiness that we shared together even more. It made me realize once again that those days and my youth are forever gone... I just can't believe that you are too.

I didn't want to believe the news when they reported of your passing. I just couldn't. And wouldn't! I never thought that someone like you would leave us. You should be immortal. Seriously. It's just not fair!

Today I spent a good 4 hours watching music videos and interviews of you, just to "Remember The Time"... I was crying through most of it. I shocked myself about how I know all the lyrics to all your songs! But then again, I do have all your albums in my collection. Even the ones you recorded when you were just a little boy, making music with your brothers. I get so sad when I think of what your family must be going through right now. Especially your kids and of course Janet, who was the closest to you of your siblings... She must be heartbroken. I'm so sorry for her...

I don't have to tell you how big of an inspiration you've been to all the artists out there today. Your music, your moves, and even the way you dressed have changed the world forever. And we will always love you for it!
Not only were you an innovator in the entertainment business, the best selling artist of all times, but you were also a kind hearted man, that donated over 300 million dollars to charity. Something that people seem to forget sometimes.
You had that eternal youth inside of you that made you so adorable and special to fans of all ages. It is no wonder the whole world is in mourning of your loss.

I will miss you so much, Michael, but I am proud to have been able to grow up with you... And I can't thank you enough for sharing your amazing talent with us... And for everything you mean to me! I'm so happy to be a Michael Jackson era baby! You were a blessing from the sky, a God's Gift! And now you're up in heaven, joined by the other great musicians of our time... Pac, Biggie, Aaliyah, Luther... the list goes on...

I "Never Can Say Goodbye", so I won't. Just trust that;
Your music will never leave the airwaves...
Your smile will never leave my memory...
And you will never leave my heart!

Rest in peace, Mike. You finally got your space.


Time For A Change

Hey guys,

I've decided I'm gonna give my website another MAKEOVER. This BLOGSPOT thing is not working for me. I need more glam, sorry.

So... Hang in there, I'll be back.

Better than ever!



Maybe Tomorrow

When I lay in my bed at night
Trying to get some sleep
I find myself thinking about you
Wondering how you're doing
And what's going on in your life
(and why I'm not in it anymore)

I get a little melancholic
Cuz I miss you
I still miss you

I grab my cell phone from the nightstand
And navigate to the textmessage folder with your name on it

I saved all the messages you ever sent me
I don't know why
I do know why
Cuz reading them makes me feel real good

And every time I scroll through these messages
I read them one by one
And I remember the exact same feeling
That each and every one of those messages gave me
The moment I opened them for the very first time

I smile
For a minute
Untill I realize those days are gone
You are gone
And there are no new messages in this folder

And every day I tell the world I'm over you
Cuz I convinced myself I'm over you
But am I?

Those message are still there
And they are so much more than just a bunch of letters on a display,
A way you made me feel,
Or a smile that faded

And the memories of you are still there too
And you are so much more than a ghost of the past,
A page in my history book,
Or a ship that sailed

You are still there
Even when I close the folder and switch off my phone
You are still there
Even when I close my eyes and try once again to get some sleep

Maybe I'll be over you tomorrow

This is another awesome Vicstar Original. All rights reserved.
Please note; this is an oldie but goodie. I'm SO over him now. :-)

You Got My Number

One day you need me
The next day you don't
One day you'll want me
The next day you won't

I feel hopeful and hopeless
useless and used
My mind is messed up
And my heart is confused

You push me away
Then you pull me back in
It's like I can't lose
But I can't seem to win

In this court of feelings
I pass you the ball
When you made your mind up
Then give me a call

This is another awesome Vicstar Original. All rights reserved.

I Am An Idiot

I am an idiot.
No seriously, I am. And I'm not afraid to admit it!

I may have an IQ of 153, which definitely doesn't make me your average blonde... But I still am an idiot when it comes to love.

Most of you know I have my clumsy moments... Remember that time I fell down the stairs at Club Sinners in Amsterdam?! Hmmm...yea. Not one of my most flattering moments...

Or how about that time I fell into the Amstel River, fully clothed? Yup. Not one I'm proud of either.
But hey, what can I say? Stick around Vicstar, and at least there's never a dull moment.

But when my TRUE IDIOCY shines through most, is when I like somebody.


I don't know if any of you recognize this but... I have this annoying habit to over-analyse shit. And when I say 'over-analyse', I really mean; over-over-overanalyse...

Is that a girl-thing? Cuz I can't imagine guys spending about 15 minutes before they decide to do a simple thing like send a text message...

Here's an example... Sometimes when I really really really like somebody... I spent a few good hours (and I'm not even exagerating) debating if I should give him a call...
I'm really not one to chase a guy... Any guy. Not even a perfect guy.
So I'd rather just wait for his call... But what if the waiting is getting to you... Tearing you up inside... And all you really want, is some peace of mind... Hear his voice and feel better.

But what if you call, and he doesn't answer his phone? You'll feel worse than you do now... Or what if he's engaged in other business (read; other women), you really wanna spare yourself that heartache...
So I say; go with a text message.

And as simple as that sounds... It really isn't!
Sending the PERFECT textmessage is an art, I tell ya.
Get yourself a pen and paper, and take notes, ladies!

Let me tell you what I do:
First, it's important to decide on the appropriate time at which you want to send the message. It can't be too early, cuz you don't want to wake him up, or risk him still being asleep and not being totally awake when reading whatever important stuff you have to say.
I also have a little rule -which absolutely makes no sense at all, let me tell you that upfront- when I call people (and when I say 'people' of course I mean 'guys'), to never call them at the exact hour, or at half an hour. So you would never get a call from me at exactly 8pm or 8.30pm. I always make it 8.07pm or 8.13pm or something...
Cuz otherwise it might seem like I've been anxiously waiting till exactly 8 to give him the call... Which of course seems like I've been working up the nerves to get to this exact moment... (Like I said; this rule makes absolutely no sense at all; what moron would even pay attention to the time of the call? But just work with me here...)

Of course it can't be too late either... Cuz you don't wanna disturb him during dinner (we all know how men love their food), or his favorite TV show (big mistake), or an exciting game (even bigger mistake)... He'd probably get REAL annoyed and not reply at all.

I'm telling you, this shit is important! Pay attention now!

So once we established the timeframe... we get to the hard part...
How do you exactly phrase what you want to say?
You want to be kinda funny, or rather 'appear breezy', so whatever you have to say doesn't really sound too 'heavy'... But then again, it can't be too funny, cuz then he might think you're just joking around, and he at least needs to know you take him serious... But then again not too serious, cuz you're not asking him to marry you right there and then either.
However, you need to get that message across loud and clear.

See how complicated this shit is???

Then another thing is; what is your goal? Do you just say what you wanna say, period? Or do you phrase it into a question, so he kinda has to reply?

Of course we like a reply!
Let's face it; we're women, and we all like attention. So a reply is definitely something we shoot for...

What bothers me, personally, is that I can never get all my text in one lousy message... Never enough space! So then you have the option to use chat-lingo, which I'm sorry to say but I'm too damn old for...
Plus you'll risk that he won't be able to figure that shit out either, or doesn't even wanna take the time to try... So scratch that.
Another option is; to send two messages... But ehm... we don't wanna look like a freakin stalker either! (He probably already has plenty of those, and we want to be special, right?) So scratch that too.

So it's very important to figure out what exact message you really wanna get across, and then cramp all that into however characters your phone allows you to use for a message.

When you're finally happy with the message, read it again, make sure there are no spelling errors, count to ten, breathe in - breathe out, and click on 'send'.

...and now... we wait...

And then the real over-analysing begins when he doesn't send you a reply... Oh my Goooood...

"What does this mean???

I just spent over half an hour fabricating the PERFECT text message, and mister wonderful on the other side doesn't even have the decency to send me a reply!"

Ok hold up, Vicstar!!!

Let me slap some sense into myself here...

At least give the motherf*cker a minute to type in a reply! He might need to analyse his shit too.


Guys don't think about stuff like this! They type in whatever first pops into their heads, forget about spell checking the damn thing, and just click on 'send'...
And that's what we over-analysing women have to deal with...

...beep beep... ...beep beep...

"Finally! A reply!!! Damn why does this phone take so long to open up a damn text message... C'mon c'mon... F*ckin Sh*t NOKIA! I need to see what he said!!!"

And then you read it...

Read it again...

Read it one more time...

And think to yourself:

"What the hell does this mean? What the hell is a '.....'?! Is that a typo or did he just cuss at me?! WHAT THE F*CK?!?!?"

So basically... all of us over-analysing women -especially the ones that are crushing-... we're screwed. That's what it all comes down to. Cuz we can never, and I repeat; NEVER, make sense of anything he's trying to say...

Probably, cuz dude is not even 'trying' to say anything. Remember, he is a man.
He just sent us one of his over-simplified brain farts and that's what we gotta work with...

Like I said; we're screwed.

So ehm... I rest my case.

My mind works in mysterious ways. In too many mysterious ways, too... Over-over-over-analysing shit ALL THE DAMN TIME... No wonder I'm so tired at night.

Yep... It's official... I am an idiot.

But you gotta love me though... If anything, just at least for all the time I put into all that unappreciated bullshit!


This blog was previously written and although I am sill an idiot, there's nobody special in my life right now.

Dreadlock Dreaming

I wonder what they'll smell like
When we're engaged in our first embrace
I wonder how you will wear them
Complimenting your beautiful face

I wonder how they'll glide through my fingers
When I play with them in my hands
I wonder if I braided my hair
If yours and mine would be friends

I wonder if people wanna touch them
Like I wanna do every day
And I wonder if, when you're eating
They ever get in the way

I wonder if you've had bad hair days
Those days when they just look all wrong
And I wonder if they sometimes annoy you
When you're out in the sun for too long

I wonder why you ever got them
As a statement or just for fun
And I wonder how they bounce off your shoulders
Whenever you jump, kick, tackle, or run

I wonder how they'd look in a ponytail
Or if you wear them up in a bun
I wonder if they ever get frizzy
And how often you get them redone

I wonder if you'd let me change them
Maybe braid them or create a new style
I wonder when was the last time you cut them
And if you'll let them grow for a while

I wonder if I will get tangled up in them
When we're playing a little rough
But most of all I wonder how they will sway to the rhythm
Of you and me making sweet love

This is another awesome Vicstar Original. All rights reserved.
If you haven't read it yet, check out My Tom Hanks Moment (part 1 and 2) for the story behind this poem.

A year after My Tom Hanks Moment...

So... I had been kicking myself for a few weeks about not talking to Mr. Soccer when I had the chance... At one point I even got his brother's phone number, but I felt stupid to call. What could I possibly say without making a fool of myself?
"Hi, you don't know me, but I have a question for you. What if YOU were on a plane and met Halle Berry; the woman of your dreams. You had eye contact with her for about 3 hours and she was definitely checking you out too... But all this time you were afraid to approach her.
Now, a few weeks later, somebody gives you Halle's sister's phone number. Would you call her?"
And if he would say that he would, I'd tell him MY story about his brother.

But I didn't do it. I decided to let it go... And learn my lesson for the future. Cuz THAT will never happen to me again. No way!

A year passed and Mr. Soccer would still pop into my mind from time to time... I'd still get that butterfly feeling everytime he was on the news, but what can you do, right?

Until, all of a sudden I "found" (ok, I searched for) him on a Dutch website, much like MySpace. "No way! NO WAY!!!" I jumped for joy. My fairytale could still come true! But how would I approach him now, a year later? I'm sure by now he would have forgotten all about that blond girl he met on a plane in Spain a year ago. As a professional soccer player, wouldn't he be on a plane every week? How many blond girls is that in a year?!

But I decided this was the one chance I would not pass up. So I sent him the story I wrote about meeting him; "My Tom Hanks Moment". The same one you previously read, posted below this one. I thought that entailed everything I wanted to tell him, in it's purest form.

My heart was racing as I hit "Sent", but just a few minutes later he responded to me! He said he loved the story and asked if I ever thought about becoming a writer. And get this: He also said that he remembered me!!!

Of course, I didn't buy that. But it was nice of him to say, wasn't it?

We sent a few emails back and forth and he asked me for my phone number. He was still playing soccer abroad and wanted to call me to "see what I was all about"... I was SOOO ecstatic! Finally, a year later, I had reached my goal! My dream was coming true after all! I couldn't believe it.

Not even 5 minutes after I sent the email with my phone number HE CALLED!
I didn't expect his phone call THAT soon! Which was a good thing, cuz now I didn't even have time to get nervous...
But it turned out there really was no need for nerves; we had a very relaxed conversation for about an hour...

And to my surprise, he really DID remember me! He even remembered what my aunt and uncle (whom he thought were my parents) looked like and what I was wearing on the plane that day. CRAZYYY!!!

After that first initial phone call he called me every night. Long distance! And we sometimes talked for 6 hours straight! It was weird, but fun, but weird, ...but fun!!!

After a few weeks of daily phone conversations, he was scheduled to fly back to Amsterdam. He had bought a mansion (dude is loaded) in the city, but it wasn't quite done yet, so he asked me if it was ok to stay with me for a few days... I felt like we had become really good friends over the phone, and of course we had that whole history on the plane a year ago... So I didn't see the problem and told him it was ok.

(I wrote a poem "Dreadlock Dreaming" about him, which I will post tomorrow...)

I still remember exactly how I felt that day at the airport waiting for him. I don't think I've ever been more nervous in my life! My stomach was going crazy and I had trouble breathing at times.

There I was again, at an airport waiting for this gorgeous, gorgeous man to approach me, like he did that first time we 'met' on the airport in Spain.

And there he was. Even more gorgeous than I remembered. He was smiling again, the same smile I remembered from a year before. (and from all these dreams that followed) Wow. Talk about a déjà-vu!

That first day was crazy! I couldn't stop blushing and giggling and nothing that came out of my mouth made any sense. I tried to be cool, but I was starstruck! I tried to cheer myself on: "C'mon Vic, think of something funny to say," but I couldn't think of anything except "Is this really happening or am I waking up any minute now?" But it wasn't a dream, so I kept blushing and giggling like an idiot.

He ended up staying with me for a few weeks! At first it was so awkward. I still couldn't believe that this was that same guy I had a crush on 13 years ago when I first saw him on TV. That same guy I had my Tom Hanks Moment with a year ago in Spain. That same guy I had endless phone conversations with for the last few weeks...

That same guy was now walking around my house naked.

That same guy was now taking a dump on my toilet with the door open.

(I know; weird, right?!)

But a romance had blossomed and I guess a few boundaries were gone (well, for him, anyway).
(But in all fairness; if I had a body like that, I'd have no problem walking around naked either! All day every day! My God... sigh...)

But it was still weird for me... So unreal. Sometimes I'd lay awake next to him. Just to watch him sleep. And I'd pinch myself to see if this was still really happening. If this was really that same guy right there next to me. In my bed. And yup, it was! Crazy, right?

But I loved having him over to take care of him. I cooked him his favorite food, made sure he had everything he needed. Yes, everything. I'm not playing. I go all out for somebody I care about.

And it was great. At first. Until he got back into that spoiled athlete mode and started to take me for granted. I guess it was my fault too. Because I spoiled him, too.

On one of our previous phone conversations I had asked him if there was anything that I could wake him up for in the middle of the night. And he had answered; "Pancakes! I love pancakes!" So guess what crazy Vicky did? I fixed him pancakes in the middle of the night and woke him up. The smile on his face was priceless. "And it's not even my birthday," he said.
Right then I told him: "You know I'm too good for you, right?" "Yeah, I know," he said and smiled like it was a joke. But I was dead serious when I said it.

He was spoiled. And I guess a guy like that had been spoiled his whole life, by the team, the coach, the club, hotels, managers, even by groupies... I can't even blame him...

I had dated athletes before, and it's hard to not be somebody's first passion. There's always that talent; the job; his sport, that is at the top of his priorities. It would never be me. And I didn't mind so much playing second fiddle, but I did want that appreciation that I thought I deserved. Taking him into my home and catering on him all these weeks. But I didn't get any of that.

Dude was a freakin millionaire, but I never even got flowers, or a simple thank you.

I guess it was a blessing that after a few weeks he got a new club to play for and his house in the city was all done, so he left my place and moved there. He came back a few times to hang out with me (and get his laundry) (Did I tell you I was too good for him?), but after a while I didn't try as hard to please him anymore. I learned my lesson.

One time he needed me again, but by then I was pretty much fed up, so I didn't ask anymore how high I was supposed to jump. He left in a bad mood and hit the pedal of his Lamborghini pretty hard which made a looot of noise when it left my street. I guess Mr. Soccer got upset.

But he still sends me Christmas and Birthday textmessages and stuff like that, and he even called a while ago to see how I was doing, but I haven't seen him since. Except for on TV, and when I accidentally google his name.

So all in all, you could say; my fairytale came true. I got to meet the guy of my dreams... But it turned out he wasn't as dreamy in real life. And there was no "and they lived happily ever after" either. Oh well.

I guess sometimes the dream is better than reality...
Sometimes it's better to just keep on dreaming...
And sometimes...
Sometimes a dream really just is what it is; a dream.